


Summer

by rizuki



Category: Free!
Genre: Free! Eternal Summer, M/M, sourin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-27
Updated: 2014-09-27
Packaged: 2018-02-18 23:05:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2365304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rizuki/pseuds/rizuki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your heart stops; your throat tightens; your stomach is in knots. ‘You’re going places, and you won’t have all that debt in your future, and you really are a beautiful swimmer. You’re beautiful.’ Your heart explodes - but at the same time, it sinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer

**Author's Note:**

> This is not based off of the Japanese school year at all. This was for the 30 day drabble challenge floating around tumblr, the word was 'summer.' I basically just grabbed Sousuke and Rin, plopped them in an American high school, and ran with whatever my mind came up with. So let's just say this is an AU in Sousuke's perspective. =_=

Summer officially begins in three weeks.

By the end of the summer, he’ll be moving away to college and you’ll...where will you be? You told everyone that you got accepted to your number one school with a full swimming scholarship. No one was surprised. They were all excited for you; they’re still excited for you. They’re definitely more excited than you are because that dream scenario was just that - a dream. You didn’t get accepted to your top school, and you didn’t get a scholarship. You’re quite sure that you’re actually the only one from your group that’s staying behind at a community college while everyone else leaves to begin their new lives... including him. The school year’s about to end, and you’ve yet to tell him your true feelings. Maybe that was why you didn’t get accepted at your top choice: because they knew how much of a chicken you were.

 Summer officially begins in two weeks.

The stress of finals and last minute assignments are getting to you. Everyone’s making plans for road trips and and parties. You nod and agree, but you’re not really listening. You’re trying to figure out your next move. Do you have a next move? When were you planning on telling everyone the truth? When were you planning on telling him the truth? He was always there for you, even when he physically wasn’t, didn’t he deserve to know? You never give yourself an answer, instead you bury yourself into piles of papers you should've finished weeks ago.

Summer officially begins in one week.

Your parents are crying as you try on your cap and gown. Your face is flushed red and your lips are in a pout, frustrated and embarrassed at all the pride-filled comments their throwing your way. They’re not his comments though, so it doesn’t really matter. Your parents were always easy to please - he wasn’t. It took planning and maneuvering to get him to smile, and when he smiled for you, it was better than winning the lottery. It was home; he was home. You wondered what he’d think of you in your cap and gown - and wondered how easy it’d be to take off his.

It’s graduation.

You’re one of the last to receive your diploma; that’s what you get for having a last name that ends in Y. Once you have it and you walk across the stage to stand with your classmates, and there he is, waiting with his diploma in his hand and his arms outstretched. ‘We did it, fucker!’ he shouts as you come near, and he draws you into a big congratulatory hug. You blink a few times in shock, arms still at your sides; you don’t know how to respond at first. After a few quick moments, you relax at his embrace, reveling in how warm his body feels against yours, and how his muscles have tightened and toned significantly in the past year. Your arms quickly come around his waist to return the hug before lifting him up off of the group a few inches. He’s cursing and laughing at the same time, elbowing you in the side once you let him down. You feel like this is more of a celebratory moment than receiving the paper that’s in your left hand.

Summer officially ends in three weeks.

You’re sitting at the side of the pool with your legs hanging off the edge and into the water. You smile as you watch your friends swim, and suddenly like a ninja he’s there in your face and you nearly tumble into the water. He looks up at you from his spot inside the pool, and he’s smiling as he talks about a giant barbecue he wants to throw next weekend when his parents go away on a cruise. You tell him it’s a bad idea and that he’ll just set his house on fire. He grabs your leg and with one rough tug he’s pulled you in and your body falls into the pool with a loud splash. The pool water is about sixty-something degrees, and your skin instantly gets goosebumps at the contact - but thanks to his touch on your bare leg, you’ve never been warmer.

Summer officially ends in two weeks.

You’re at his barbecue, and you’re not surprised that he’s drunk. You’re not surprised that he found a way to break into his father’s liquor cabinet. You’re also not surprised that you’re literally dragging him into his house once the barbecue is over to force him into bed. He’s laughing at nothing, and is pretty much dead weight in your arms, but he feels good against you and you don’t mind helping, so you say nothing. You plop him unceremoniously into his bed and he whines loudly before randomly telling you how jealous he is of you and your future. Your heart stops; your throat tightens; your stomach is in knots. ‘You’re going places, and you won’t have all that debt in your future, and you really are a beautiful swimmer. You’re beautiful.’ Your heart explodes - but at the same time, it sinks. He’s asleep before you can respond, and you notice that your hand is shaking as you pull the covers up to his chin.

Summer officially ends in one week.

You find yourself knocked onto your back as a result of a quick and forceful punch. Your cheek and jaw ache with a sharp pain, and you can’t remember what happened even though it just happened. He’s towering above you, tears in his eyes as his arms shake at his sides. Oh yeah, you finally told him the truth. You were helping him pack for college and somehow thought it was the perfect opportunity to tell him the truth. He tells you to screw yourself before demanding you get out of his house before he calls the cops. You call him out for being a touch extreme, he responds by kicking you so hard between the legs that you pass out.

He’s moving away today.

You’ve come to help him pack his car and you both do so in total silence. Once he has everything, he turns to face you and you can’t read the look on his face. It doesn’t make sense. You open your mouth to say something but it’s cut off by the pressure of his lips against yours in an awkward and forceful kiss. When he pulls back, he’s blushing hard and avoiding eye contact. You’re staring into space wondering if he hit you so hard he knocked you out again. ‘Apply for spring admission at my university,’ he mumbles under his breath. ‘They’ll take you. Until then, what just happened is your motivation.’ You don’t question him even though you want to. The next few months become a blur but you find yourself working harder than you ever have, his last words to you constantly on the front burner of your mind. It isn’t until you receive your acceptance letter in December that you realize he was right - what happened was your motivation. He was always your motivation. You were just too busy being perverted and keeping to yourself in your own thoughts to see it, and now you were going to do whatever you had to in order to go back home.

You walk into your shared dorm room on the first day of the spring semester without having said a word to him. He climbs out of his bunk and approaches you with narrowed eyes, but this time you cut him off by forcefully pressing your lips to his for longer than you initially intended. When you pull away, he’s now the one staring into space, lips wet and red and swollen and smiling.

You’re home.


End file.
